Colours of the Rainbow
by tromana
Summary: 7 unrelated Jane/Lisbon fanfics, each one based on a colour of the rainbow. Fantasy Script Forum challenge. Last: Roses are Red, Violets are Blue: Inanimate objects can’t stare, Lisbon.
1. Red Blood Cells

**Colours of the Rainbow is a fanfic challenge from http:// z3 . invisionfree . com / fantasy_script  
The concept? 7 unrelated stories, each based on one of the colours of the rainbow. Please feel free to visit - and join the Fantasy Script. We have many challenges like this one. x tromana**

**Title:** Colours of the Rainbow #1: Red Blood Cells.  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon, Rigsby  
**Summary: **Jane's distraction methods leave something to be desired.  
**Disclaimer:** Still not mine. Ah well.  
**Spoilers: **Ep 1.16 Bloodshot  
**Prompt:** Red

**Red Blood Cells**

She lurched out of the dilapidated shack, clutching her abdomen, well aware that blood - her blood - was slowly staining her green tank top. She still couldn't believe he'd pulled a knife on her. And that she'd had to shoot him at blind range. No, now wasn't the time to be thinking of the figurative blood on her hands. There was the literal stuff to be dealing with right here, right now. If she didn't focus, their number one suspect wouldn't be the only casualty. They'd be able to add her name to that growing list, too.

"Lisbon!"

Jane rushed up whilst Rigsby frantically dialled 911. Lisbon dared move her hand for half a second as Jane took her into his arms, slowly helping her to find the floor without falling to it. She winced slightly as he removed her hands to observe exactly what damage had been done, carefully peeling away her bloodied clothing. The cut wasn't too deep - yet had done enough damage to cause her to bleed copiously, which was dangerous in itself if it wasn't dealt with effectively.

After ensuring she was continually putting pressure on the wound, he tore off his jacket, waistcoat and shirt. Lisbon was certain she'd have appreciated the view more if she hadn't been so… terrified. Ripping away a sleeve, he pulled her hands away in attempt to use it as some sort of compress. As far as he knew, there was no running water around to make it more effective, so dry would have to do. She winced as he placed strong hands over the cut, and despite herself, she tried to crawl away from him.

"Stop squirming, woman. I'm trying to help you."

"Er, they said they'll be here in five minutes," Rigsby announced. He placed his mouth to Jane's ear and whispered, hoping Lisbon wouldn't hear. "Keep her talking, Jane. If she falls unconscious, things are going to get a hell of a lot worse."

Jane nodded grimly, and told Rigsby to fold up his jacket and rest Lisbon's head on it. They both earned a steely glare for their efforts; despite the fact she knew she needed their help, it didn't mean she had to accept it gratefully. Thinking it best, Rigsby stood at the end of the dirt pathway, keeping a shrewd eye open for the ambulance.

"Red blood cells are really quite fascinating, don't you think?"

"Oh really?" Lisbon snapped. "I think I'd find them more interesting if they weren't pouring out of me."

"Yes, really." Jane replied. "Did you know they don't have a nucleus? Or mitochondria? I think that's interesting. What about you, Rigsby?"

"Erm, yes?"

Rigsby really didn't want to get involved in this conversation. Where the hell was that ambulance? Jane's concept of keeping Lisbon focussed was unsurprisingly odd. But then again, if it kept her mad, she would be more likely to focus on staying awake. Despite the fact his boss was losing blood at a scarily fast rate considering, he was still ever so slightly worried of getting on the wrong side of Lisbon's sharp tongue.

"See, Rigsby finds it interesting too."

Jane dared to take a quick peek at the wound; it was beginning to clot around the edges. He let out a sigh of relief and she attempted to sit up. He placed a forceful hand on her shoulder and let a weak smile trace across his lips. The skin of her shoulder was cooler than it should be and though she hadn't appeared to have lost enough blood for it to be fatal, she was obviously beginning to get woozy.

"Looks like your platelets and white blood cells are joining in with the party now."

"Jane?"

"Yes, Lisbon?"

"I hate you."

The ambulance arrived eventually (in Rigsby's opinion, at least. They had actually arrived within the 5 minutes they had told him) and confirmed their beliefs that the wound would require a few stitches. Lisbon was less than impressed when she was informed that she would probably be asked to stay in overnight, too. Very few people she knew who had overnight stays in hospital seemed to actually come out again alive.

A few hours passed and Lisbon was suitably medicated, with irritating machines measuring her heart rate and other essentials. She hadn't quite lost enough blood for a transfusion, but that didn't stop Jane fussing. He'd actively sent away Cho, Van Pelt and Rigsby, promising them that he would keep them up to date on her condition and watched as she slept off the drugs that had been administered to lessen the pain. She turned, moaning slightly and Jane jumped to his feet.

"Hi, Jane."

"You're surprisingly coherent."

"Thanks, I think."

He bounded around the room, careful not to disturb any of the equipment and indicated to the flowers that had already managed to amalgamate on the windowsill, pointing out with relish who had brought which bunch. With particular pride, he pointed to the red roses that he had popped down to the hospital shop for whilst she'd been asleep.

"And that, I believe, makes me a better visitor than you."

"You couldn't see," she replied indignantly, scrambling to a sitting position. "You wouldn't have been able to appreciate them."

"I would have been able to _smell_ them."

Small hands wandered to her stomach, determined to investigate the damage done. Jane slapped them away earning himself a withering glare.

"At least I'm a better patient than you are."

"Still _im_patient though."

end

**Next: Oranges and Lemons**


	2. Oranges and Lemons

**Title:** Colours of the Rainbow #2: Oranges and Lemons  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon, Jane's family, Team  
**Summary: **The higher they rise, the harder they fall.  
**Disclaimer:** *checks handbag* Pen, paper, purse… nope, no Mentalist. Alas.  
**Spoilers: **All of Season 1  
**Prompt:** Orange  
**Notes: **This gets dark. Very dark towards the end. Hooray for angst.

**Oranges and Lemons**

_Oranges and lemons,  
__Sing the bells of St. Clements_

Patrick Jane's daughter had a lusty singing voice. Her cheery tones echoed happily throughout the house on a day to day basis, to the extent that her father would frequently joke that she had been singing since before she could talk. She'd always giggle and tell her Daddy off for being silly. She loved her traditional nursery rhymes and had her favourites. She particularly loved the one she'd learned quite recently, whilst holidaying in England.

They didn't really have the money to go, but Jane's childhood sweetheart had almost as much faith in his abilities as he did. Almost, for no one else could quite match his cocky arrogance that he somehow manage to change into an endearing quality. They both knew it was only a matter of time before the media caught on and he had them wrapped around his little finger. They simply wanted the luxury of rest and relaxation without being stopped every five minutes for an autograph, or a quick 'reading'. And their little girl didn't deserve that hassle either - not on holiday.

A little London boy had taught her the rhyme. She had been sipping on a tall glass of orange juice, him a sparkling lemonade which would go up his nose and make him sneeze. Both shrieked loudly, reciting the rhyme over and over, getting louder and bothering the other families in the restaurant. Jane didn't care though - he loved seeing his daughter so happy. He spoiled her rotten - she, after all, had _him_ wrapped around _her_ little finger.

Later that night, she had been put to bed, having calmed down from the sugar high of earlier and actually feeling quite tired. Jane was laying languidly in the hotel room with his wife, entirely content. He believed he had his arms around quite possibly the most beautiful woman in the whole world and the blonde beauty was currently tracing circles with her deft fingers on his bare chest. Pausing for a second, she treated him to a soft kiss and a wry grin. The rhyme their daughter's 'holiday romance' had taught her was one way to teach her about the churches and cathedrals of London, she mused out loud. She was, after all, a very bright girl.

After their short break, whenever he handed the little girl an orange or lemon - in juice form or otherwise - she couldn't help but break into the song. And Jane couldn't help but sing along.

_You owe me five farthings,  
__Sing the bells of St. Martin's_

"Daddy!"

She prodded him determinedly in the chest. Her Daddy always fell asleep in front of the TV watching the soccer. And she didn't like it. Besides, this time she had an ulterior motive, not that she hasn't had one in the past. She couldn't believe that her Daddy had forgotten such an important detail as this, however.

He opened one bleary eye and spotted her, all blonde curls and eagerness bouncing in front of him excitedly. He hauled himself to a sitting position and grinned at her. She beamed back.

"You owe me five bucks!"

"Do I?"

She nodded frenetically. Money was big business - and Mommy had said that she could buy a new toy with it. Nothing big; she hadn't earned enough for it, but still something. Just to commemorate the bet she had won against her father last night.

"So I do, bumblebee."

Standing up, he pulled his wallet from his trouser pocket and withdrew five crisp one dollar notes, placing them one by one in her open hands as she counted them aloud. Jane would never tell her that she hadn't actually won. He knew all along that she had hidden her Rosie-doll in her sock drawer. He had promised his wife that he would try to stop reading them both - let them have a few secrets, at least - but old habits die hard.

He kissed the little girl gently on the forehead. His daughter was probably the only thing in his life that he was actually proud of. She grabbed him with sticky hands and all but dragged him outside. His wife was waiting patiently for them both beside their car, ready and waiting to take them to the local mall.

If anything ever happened to Patrick Jane's wife and child, he didn't know what he would do.

_When will you pay me?  
Sing the bells of Old Bailey_

"Look, I can get the money to you," he muttered, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He glanced over his shoulder. Damn more of them. "Just give me one more week."

"It's always one more week with you, Patrick Jane."

He was shoved bodily into a brick wall, in attempt to make their point. Jane was certain that his ribs wouldn't appreciate that come morning. And then, once again, his wife would start with the awkward questions once more.

But loan sharks had been the only way to secure that beautiful house, with the beautiful ocean views in Malibu. All three of them had loved it from the moment they saw it. And what his wife and his bumblebee wanted, he got. One way or another. Even it did mean the occasional shady dealing.

And it was true; he could get the money to them by next week. He'd been referred some new clients recently, all with significant amounts of money. Carol Gentry looked especially promising. Not much of a looker, but that didn't really matter so long as she stumped up the case. And anyway, he was more than happy with his willowy wife and their gorgeous daughter.

Now, it was just a case of persuading these thugs that this time, he would be true to his word.

It was a shame that they knew he was 'psychic' and were suspicious of virtually anything he said, especially if he tried to distract them from money talk. They even knew of his abilities to hypnotise people, which made dealing with them all the more worse.

Still, it was worth a shot, wasn't it?

"Why don't we just stop a second, watch the waves? Isn't the sound of them crashing against the beach relaxing? Listen." Jane tried to keep his breathing under control. "You like that, yes?"

The shark almost fell for it, and Jane earned a punch for his efforts.

"No funny business, Jane."

Time for plan B, then.

"Double! I'll pay you double next week."

He could always win it back in a game of poker, after all.

_When I grow rich,  
Sing the bells of Shoreditch_

She kissed him firmly on the mouth, smiling as she did so. He'd put down the telephone in stunned shock and immediately told her the good news. It hadn't been entirely unexpected, but they just didn't expect it to happen so soon. Jane had been beginning to hit the big customers, and as he expected Carol was particularly good to them. They just hadn't expected it to take just six months for one of his grateful (rich) clients to pass on the message to a TV station.

"They want me to talk about Red John."

"That crazy-ass murderer you've helped the police with on occasion?"

"Yes."

Jane pouted slightly as he spoke. The head of the Serious Crimes Unit at the Californian Bureau of Investigation was still refusing to meet him on those occasions. Apparently they thought it ridiculous to allow someone who was not only a civilian, but a psychic to get involved with crimes of such a serious nature. That it would all blow up back in his face, or worse, their's. He hadn't expected the look on his wife's face now. All her every little twitch appeared to say that she may well agree with that Senior Agent, whoever they were.

"Don't do it," she whispered, plaintively.

"But the money…"

She doesn't know just how much they need it. The mortgage is near enough breaking him, even now the loan sharks are off his back. It's his fault, really. He's the one who insists on surprising her with the entirely unnecessary diamonds, flowers, meals out. And buying his daughter bigger, bolder presents by the month. But seeing them both crack out the same cheeky smile of appreciation always made it worth it. There's always the hint in her eyes, however, saying that they should really be saving. They don't know how long it will be until he is exposed for the con artist he really is.

"But playing with Red John… that's like playing with fire. Worse, even."

"It's a sleazy chat show. I'll - we'll be fine."

She kissed him again.

"Yes, you're right. I'm just getting nervous," she lets out a small laugh. "Perhaps we should use the money to go on holiday."

Her kisses trail down his neck.

"Mmm."

_When will that be?  
Sing the bells of Stepney_

Gone.

She's gone.

And so was his little bumblebee.

The money, the house, _everything_ meant nothing now. What was the point when they were gone?

The CBI's SCU were meant to be arriving at any minute. All dark suits and apologetic faces. He'd worked with (most of) them often enough.

Jumping off a bridge seemed like a far preferable concept.

Unfortunately, he before he managed to make the leap, some idiot managed to get hold of him and whisk him off to a local mental institution.

Sophie helped him create a façade, the image of someone mentally healthy and happy. And helped him redirect his anger.

Red John must die.

_I do not know,  
__Sings the great bell of Bow_

"Patrick Jane?"

"Yes?"

Virgil Minelli appeared to be quite a dour man, yet he had a firm handshake. As with all the previous times he'd met him, he was certain this was a man who knew what he was doing. After all, he manage to co-ordinate several departments in the busy CBI. The details of thousands of crimes passed through those very hands each year. Including the famous Red John case, still unsolved. Still baffling the best in the business. And that was the one that Jane was particularly interested in.

"So you think your skills can be of use to us?" Minelli enquired. "What happened to the psychic job on TV?"

"I was never psychic," Jane assured him. "I'm just good at observing. And remembering. I read people."

"And how can we trust you?"Jane squirmed in his seat.

Uncomfortable question. How can he be trusted if even his wife and child, ultimately, couldn't trust him to make the right decisions. He managed to make a garbled response, and Minelli cracked a smile. They discussed further, detailing Jane's exact skills. Why he had approached the CBI after what had happened to his family. How he might just be able to get Minelli to quit smoking.

"A six month trial, I think," he mused. "With the CCU. Cyber crimes. Their solve rate is the lowest in the CBI."

"Oh no," Jane replied. "Serious Crimes, or nothing."

Minelli narrowed his eyes. This man was very… forthright for want of a better word. And could he really trust him around Lisbon? She was one of his best Agents, and had been proven correct in not letting this man mess around with them in the first place. He may have 'reformed' in the past two years or so, but psych had said that all his signs indicated that he had control issues, trust issues… and just plain issues.

"You're not the one to be making demands."

"Yes, sir," Jane replied. "But I believe I'll be able to have the best results with the worst criminals."

He took hold of Minelli's wrist and stared deeply into his eyes. Jane spoke calmly, of nothing much in particular, slowly gaining Minelli's trust and relaxing him. It was an unethical way to get his desired job, but needs must. Eventually, he appeared to be coming around to his way of thinking. He nodded, and agreed. Whilst the SCU's solve rate was one of the better ones, they were the most important crimes to be solved. Jane _would_ be best off there.

Smiling slightly, Minelli placed a call, and informed Jane that they would have company within a couple of minutes. A small hand knocked on the door and Minelli beckoned the woman in. Short, dark-haired, determined features. Not someone who liked to be messed with.

"You called me, Sir?"

"Yes, Agent Lisbon. This is Patrick Jane. He's going to be on trial for the next six months as a consultant to your unit."

"What? But he's that psychic. I said he shouldn't get mixed up with our work."

Jane grinned. Agent Lisbon was stubborn too. This was going to be fun.

"I'm not psychic, just observant." Jane beamed at her. "It's very nice to finally meet you, Agent Lisbon."

_Here comes a candle to light you to bed_

"Damn it, Jane! Why do you keep putting yourself into situations like that?"

She sat cross-legged on the hotel, gently daubing at his bloodied nose. It wasn't as bad as it looked, the blood was just making it seem a hell of a lot worse. Lisbon never told him, but the amount of times he'd been punched in the face, she was secretly surprised that it was still in one place. He winced theatrically. This was routine now, he got thumped and she mothered him.

It was what worked for them, at least.

They both pretended. It wasn't that much a chore, really. Facing each other day to day and just ignoring the fact that they were attracted to one another. The bickering was an easy cover that they both fell into naturally. There were so many reasons that they just wouldn't work. He was still broken; losing his family had hurt him in more ways than even he knows. And she ignored all the problems in her personal life by focussing so thoroughly on her career.

It drove their colleagues mad. Yes, they had a rocky start. She didn't want to accept having a phoney psychic working in depth on her team. He teased her mercilessly, though, listened to her more than he probably would have any of the other Senior Agents in the CBI. He still teased her now, yet it was seen as being affectionate and almost expected of them. She still got frustrated with his natural ability to deceive and his inability to tell anyone the full picture.

Jane hadn't imagined he could ever fall in love again. Lisbon appeared to be the complete opposite if his wife. Yet, looking deeper, they had the same core beliefs. Same determination. Same mile-wide caring streak. If he was going to fall for anyone, he knew he shouldn't be surprised that it was Lisbon. Yet he couldn't let himself get any closer to him. Look what happened to the last people who had cared for, understood and trusted him entirely. Best to keep her at an arms length.

Lisbon simply hadn't imagined ever being able to fall in love at all. Least of all with a scheming, egotistical, childlike man. A man who, skin deep, seemed so terribly perfect, yet looking deeper, was so terribly broken. It wasn't fair on either of them instigating anything other than friendship when the deal stood like that.

So they continued their stubborn, tentative dance. Neither willing to admit they could go further if they really wanted to try. Neither willing to allow themselves to fall, for fear of getting hurt.

"There," she stated, almost triumphantly. "Sorted. Again."

"Thanks, Lisbon," he grinned. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You probably wouldn't be standing by now," she muttered under her breath.

_Here comes a chopper to chop off your head,  
__Chip chop, chip chop,  
__The last man's _

"He's in there."

She spoke in a hushed breath, and Jane nodded. The day had finally arrived. The reckoning. He took Lisbon's small hand into his own and gave it an affectionate squeeze. Lisbon had demanded that the rest of the team stay outside; there was no point in putting all of them in danger. Red John knew about the existence of all of them - he was no fool. In fact, he often had the SCU running around looking like idiots. Jane had tried to persuade Lisbon to stay outside, too, but she had vehemently refused. That didn't surprise him either.

She pulled out her gun, holding it at eye level as they both crept forward. She pushed the door open and walked in first. Lisbon, after all, was the one that was armed. There was absolutely no way she was going to allow Jane to wilfully walk into an obviously dangerous situation when she was the only one who could defend them.

Jane could feel his heart thumping in his chest. Every beat of his heart, every single footstep was another second gone by before he faced the bastard he'd been preparing to see for all these years. As far as he was concerned, in this situation, it was a case of kill or be killed. And the only person he had trusted since then was half a footstep ahead of him. The only person he trusted to face Red John with him.

Van Pelt had to smother a gasp as the pair disappeared into the deserted building. She too had her gun drawn, just in case Red John tried to make a run for it. They couldn't let him escape, not again.

They could hear some shouts.

And then there were three shots.

Neither Cho, Van Pelt or Rigsby wanted to go into the warehouse.

They feared what they would find. Their colleagues, their friends…

_Dead_

_**Oranges and Lemons: Traditional Nursery Rhyme: Origin Unown**_

**Next: Fields of Gold**


	3. Fields of Gold

**A/N: Meh. I don't really like this one, I'm going through a fluff block and this is my lame attempt at working through it. Sorry for the wait, too. The 'green' prompt will be up a lot quicker. x tromana**

**Title:** Colours of the Rainbow 3: Fields of Gold  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating:** K+  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon, Team  
**Summary: **Who hides a body in the middle of a corn field?  
**Disclaimer:** If I owned it, I wouldn't be writing fanfic for it.  
**Prompt:** Yellow

**Fields of Gold**

They pulled up in the SUV and piled out. Jane grinned. The scenery was simply marvellous, though most of them didn't really have the chance to appreciate it. The corn was beginning to yellow beautifully; giving the impression of a sea of golden fields surrounding them, right up to the horizon. Lisbon glared at said corn and stood, feet shoulders-width apart whilst seemingly deciding on what course she should take.

"Who hides a body in the middle of a corn field?" Van Pelt mused out loud.

"Someone," Lisbon started. She took a few steps forward. "Who obviously wants short cops to get lost either trying to find the damn body, or getting out again. Come on."

Lisbon wasn't ashamed of her height. It had taken a while to get to that point, however. She'd had to live through the snide comments of her peers at school, not to mention her brothers - who were both giants. Even now, people still found it funny to make a quick joke out of it. That was, until, she proved to them she could take on people twice her size - and win. That didn't stop a certain someone, however. She had a feeling that vegetation, like Jane, wouldn't care either way, though.

The journey inward proved problematic. It hadn't helped that of late, the crop had been planted thicker in order to attempt to boost productivity. Lisbon could vaguely see Van Pelt and Rigsby, who had somehow managed to get ahead of her, despite the fact she was first to venture into the field. So engrossed in thought, she barely noticed that someone else's footsteps were crunching behind her. A hand appeared on her shoulder and she jumped, spun round and almost whacked Jane in the face.

"What did you do that for?"

"Oh come on, it is kind of funny."

"No it's not. There's a dead man somewhere in here and I'd quite like to do my job."

"For what it's worth, those two are headed in the completely wrong direction," Jane supplied. He pointed to some broken plants just ahead of her. "You're right, it is this way."

Lisbon cursed the fact the local police hadn't thought it a good idea to stamp out a pathway to make their lives easier. Though, it had kept the crime scene intact at least, something that should be beneficial to their consultant if no one else. Jane slipped a hand into hers and smiled. She grimaced in response, but let him lead her to the site.

"Jane?"

"Yes, Lisbon?"

"What do you have in your hand?"

Jane grinned and slipped a wildflower behind Lisbon's ear. She attempted to remove it, but he grabbed hold of her wrist, still smiling.

"Leave it, it looks cute."

"Yeah, well. I'm an officer of the law, I'm not attempting to look cute."

They broke through the final pieces of corn, knowing full well that the farmer would be thoroughly unimpressed with the damage done (though, even moreso once forensics were done) and she surreptitiously removed it. Van Pelt and Rigsby were there within half a minute of her calling for them. She wandered around the body, explaining to them about how the landowner had been walking his dogs when one caught the scent and found the body. Jane glanced over and noticed that the flower had since been crushed into the ground.

"Cho called," Rigsby announced, attempting to ignore the murderous look on Lisbon's face. "Said he couldn't get through to you, boss. Said the victim is David Harris, 42. He's been going around buying up all the local land. He's set up numerous onshore oil drills and this area is his latest target."

"So, we're on fields of liquid gold then," Lisbon replied. "Figuratively speaking. Jane, are you done here?"

"Patience, woman. Is anyone ever going to teach her about patience?"

"Jane…"

"Yes, I'm done."

"Good, lets let forensics move in and you can tell me your thoughts on the way back."

Jane took hold of Lisbon's wrist gently and helped her to retrace their steps back to the field's edge. The moment she had her feet safely on the gritted path, Lisbon shook him off and strode towards the SUV to wait for the others. Jane smiled, more to himself than anyone else and took more time about it. Once they were safely belted into the car, he slipped another flower behind her ear and grinned.

"Damn it, Jane. I told you earlier…"

"You're driving. You don't need to look like 'an officer of the law' whilst you're driving," Jane insisted whilst Rigsby and Van Pelt climbed into the back seat.

"Shut up," Lisbon scowled.

As they pulled away, Jane noted that the flower had remained in place.

***

Jane had found the case boring. For what seemed like the first time in an age, the (relatively) obvious people had done it. It was a group of local people, all of whom had been swindled out of their land, and the landowner. They had 'meticulously' planned together and poisoned Harris before dumping his body in the middle of the field to be 'discovered' the next morning. Each of them had cracked one by one underneath Cho's interrogation and the pieces fell into place with ease, without the requirements for Jane's usually highly useful observations.

He didn't like cases like this simply because he felt useless. Well, more useless than usual.

When Lisbon said she would be visiting his girlfriend, who'd been staying in a hotel near the farm where Harris had been murdered, Jane insisted on coming along. Lisbon was always far more fun to wind up than the rest of the team put together and it was a good two hour drive away. It had taken a little cajoling, but as usual, she gave in with a tell-tale sag of her shoulders.

Once in the SUV, however, he just felt the mood leave him. Her company was enough for now.

Lisbon frowned as Jane was positively on best behaviour at the girlfriend's house. As she told the other woman that they had caught the killers, Jane was virtually silent. He simply went about his normal psychoanalysis of the room they were in. They bid their farewells, and the woman waved them away with a teary smile.

"You're quiet," Lisbon announced as they walked through the hallways. "What's up?"

"The sky? The sun?"

"Stop being so damn pedantic!" she snapped. "What is wrong with you? You're never this quiet."

Jane ignored her and strode towards the SUV, unlocking it.

"Hey, when did you get the keys? Give them back to me."

He shrugged. "When you were busy telling that woman who murdered her boyfriend. She doesn't particularly mind, you know, because she was having an affair. And no. Get in, Lisbon."

"Jane…"

Jane sighed. He knew she'd be this stubborn when it came to allowing him to drive. At this rate, they'd probably land up arguing until nightfall before she'd even dare set foot in the SUV without having the keys in her hands. He briefly wondered whether the others had this problem or if it was simply down to her control issues.

"Just get in, woman."

"You drive too fast."

"As you have said a thousand times before," Jane replied. "And I don't. We won't get anywhere unless you actually get in."

Making sure he knew just how much he was irritating her, she opened the SUV door and slammed it shut behind her. Once safely belted in, she folded her arms petulantly across her chest and glared at Jane, who seemed to have brightened up considerably. They drove, in silence, her glowering as she realised they were not taking the quickest route back to the CBI Headquarters. He stopped, quite suddenly, near where the body was unceremoniously dumped.

"Why are we stopping here?"

"There's no need to sound so dubious, Lisbon. Just a breath of fresh air."

"Fine, but only so long as I can drive the rest of the way back?" Lisbon asked. "And not for long, either. It's already evening and I'd quite like to be back before midnight."

They stepped out of the vehicle, Jane locked the door and led them up the slight incline. Looking towards the west, the sun was setting quite spectacularly over the yellow corn fields. Jane sat and motioned for Lisbon to join him. Reluctantly, she did eventually join him and he let a lazy arm drape around her shoulders.

"Here." Jane handed Lisbon a shoddy attempt at gathering flowers. "Don't worry, I'm not going to try shoving them behind your ear this time."

"More flowers, Jane?" She still took them gratefully. "Should I begin to get worried?"

"They're pretty," he shrugged.

"At least the scenery won't be destroyed by an oil drill," Lisbon mused.

"Channelling Van Pelt now, are we?"

He received an affectionate slap, accompanied by a smile before she settled back down into the crook of his arm as they watched the sunset. Jane grinned; she seemed to have forgotten about her desire to get back to the HQ as the sky around them was painted a glorious combination of reds, oranges and yellows. All Jane knew was he hadn't felt as relaxed in years.

end

**Next: **Green Eyed Monster


	4. Green Eyed Monster

**Title: **Green Eyed Monster  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon, Team  
**Summary: **Two separate cases and two separate occasions when jealousy rears it's ugly head.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine; I'm just playing.  
**Spoilers: **1.02 Red Hair and Silver Tape, 1.16 Bloodshot  
**Prompt:** Green

**Green Eyed Monster**

Lisbon likes working undercover. For a short period of time, an hour, or two at the most, she gets to pretend she's someone she's not. That she isn't some kind of emotional train wreck; that she can trust men enough to let them under her skin, as it were. That's not to say Lisbon doesn't trust men at all. She trusts her boys. But that was different; she trusted Cho and Rigsby to do their jobs and make sure they had her back when necessary. And that trust was reciprocated tenfold. She just doesn't trust men enough to let them into her heart to the extent that one day, they'll inevitably let her down entirely.

She had missed this. Since becoming the head of the unit, her requirements for undercover work have been slashed dramatically. Lisbon is now usually the one with the walkie-talkie and the television screen, making sure everything goes to plan. That her team can snare their target with relative ease. To ensure that all their hard work doesn't just fall apart. It didn't stop her missing it though, the ability to act, whilst all the while having an ulterior motive. She wondered if actors got the same thrill from their manipulations as she did when toying with a suspect.

It took a lot of fighting to persuade the rest of the team that she was the right one for the job, instead of Grace. The case required a forthright woman who enjoyed having men dominate her despite being a strong individual herself. Van Pelt simply wasn't experienced enough, she said. And she didn't trust Rigsby not to let the situation play out if Van Pelt was involved, either. Though she didn't voice that opinion, they all agreed with it anyway. He'd let them down on that front already, and Lisbon wasn't ready to put him in that situation again. Not yet, anyway. It's not as if anyone would get that overprotective of her, anyway, Lisbon thought.

So she stood, fiddling with the wires whilst Patrick Jane gave her an appraising look over.

"Here, let me sort that out."

She huffed and sighed, but allowed his deft fingers to take over. He took a little longer than he should have, relishing in the guilty touches of his fingers grazing her exposed skin. Jane knew that he really shouldn't be enjoying this much; he was a grieving widower, for goodness' sake. Eventually, the camera wire was suitably concealed and he took a step back, admiring his handiwork.

"There." His eyes didn't leave her as she scooped up an impractically small handbag and headed towards the door. "Good luck, I suppose."

Jane watched the screen more intently than the rest of the team put together. Lisbon had found her target, and was playing the part beautifully. It wasn't much of an act, not really, but however much she vehemently denied it, she was still a terrible liar. Good enough to fool the idiot they were trying to ensnare, though. What surprised Jane was just how easily she managed to flirt openly with him, though. He can feel something in the pit of his stomach, something that hadn't been there for a very long while. Possessiveness? A little. Jealousy? That's more like it. He just didn't want his Lisbon getting hurt - she was his friend and he loved her. Wait. _Love? _When did that come into the equation?

The suspect leant over and gave Lisbon a peck on the cheek. Cho looked over at Jane curiously. Obviously he hadn't been able to keep that ever so slightly possessive growl internal. Luckily, Van Pelt and Rigsby hadn't seemed to notice. Jane was relieved and allowed his eyes to close slightly, his muscles to relax. Cho was a man of few words, he wouldn't go voicing what he'd just heard over the rooftops. He might question him later on his exact feelings for their boss, but Jane knew that he'd be able to brush off any of Cho's questions with ease. Deception was what Patrick Jane did best, after all.

Lisbon grinned and pulled out the recording device that they had planted in that tiny handbag triumphantly. When had she managed to wheedle a confession out of the bastard? Oh, when he was contemplating how he'd brush off Cho, that's when. Rigsby had already rushed to the scene, helped Lisbon to handcuff him and lead him off to their SUV. And Lisbon was already heading back to the hotel room where they had set up base. In this line of work, things sometimes happened terribly fast. Well, that was Jane's excuse for being hit so many times and receiving so many formal complaints, anyway.

"Uh, nice job, Lisbon."

Suave, Jane. Very suave.

***

The victim's wife was obviously grieving and Jane gently took her hands into his own. He stroked them gently and spoke soothingly to her, first of nothing in particular before moving onto the important details. Asking her if she was absolutely certain she had no idea of any enemies her husband may have had. Lisbon watched curiously as the woman shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. She was fairly certain he was hypnotising her; she'd have to discipline him for that later. They both knew, however, this wouldn't be the last time they'd question the woman. She'd be less hysterical in a day or two, and more likely to be able to concentrate on the facts.

The second time, she was certainly more composed. And she was definitely more appreciative of Jane's warm smile, and the intensity of his eyes as they took in her every move. Lisbon knew the feeling of having Jane's eyes watching you at all times; it always made her squirm slightly. It made her feel like he was seeing her right down to her bare bones. He squeezed the woman's knee gently as she revealed that her brother had never approved of their union. That he had threatened her deceased husband on occasion. But he wasn't a violent man, honest and he would never hurt a fly.

Lisbon dutifully scribbled down the facts in her notepad. A lead was a lead. The woman was looking at her brother through rose-tinted glasses. And looking at the bare facts, he was the most likely suspect they'd come across so far.

They were back there a week later. Lisbon had only been slightly wrong; the woman's brother was involved in a gang, and a shootout between them and their rivals had lead to the victim being caught in the crossfire. Though not directly responsible, the brother still didn't show much grief in the fact his brother-in-law was dead. On the contrary, he seemed positively delighted, which Lisbon was rather unimpressed with. Jane whispered to the woman just how sorry they both were one again. She knew it was best to let Jane work his magic, women always responded better to him. Pretty face, soothing voice, that I-know-what-you're-going-through look omnipresent in his eyes. Seconds later, the widow had her arms thrown around Jane's neck, profusely thanking him for all the hard work he'd done in catching her husband's killer.

"Can I contact you, if I need anything?" she snivelled.

Lisbon's eyes narrowed slightly as she asked. It was always best to close cases cleanly, not to maintain contact with the victim's relatives. It helped you to move on as well as them. At least, that's what she told herself these annoying feelings were about. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Now wasn't the time to let fickle emotions take charge. It was important to remain utterly professional, until the dotted line had been signed on the very last piece of paperwork.

"I'm sorry," he replied, removing her arms gently from around his neck. "I don't think my boss would approve."

The woman flicked a knowing glance at Lisbon, before nodding in resignation. She managed to sneak an additional hug from Jane at the door, to which Lisbon actively sighed in exasperation. What was wrong with her? She didn't usually find Jane's beguiling charms on other women so damn frustrating. Maybe it was because he was _her_ project, and though she was loathe to admit it, her feelings were becoming less and less platonic for him by the day.

He positively skipped up to the car as she fished out the keys. Unlocking the car, and slipping into the driver's seat, she found herself having to take deep breaths, if only to bring her emotions under control before they hit the road. Jane grinned at her as she pulled on her seat belt.

"Is there an extra hint of green in your eyes today, Lisbon?"

Damn him. Why did he have to be able to tell every single damn emotion that crossed her face. Yet she was still willingly allowed him to manipulate her like every suspect that came across their path, turned a blind eye to him wilfully breaking the rules, gave him allowances that she wouldn't even dream of giving any of the others. Why was she even beginning to trust him at all?

"What, no," she scoffed. She had to regain control of the situation, somehow. "Besides, my eyes aren't green."

"If not green, what colour are they?"

"Bluey, greyish… greenish. I guess."

Well, that certainly convinced him, Lisbon.

end

**Next:** Beaten Black and Blue


	5. Beaten Black and Blue

**A/N: **Why is it I can only write fluff or angst? Damn it. x tromana

**Title:** Colours of the Rainbow #5: Beaten Black and Blue  
**Rating:** T  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon, Team  
**Summary:** Lisbon refuses to admit she's unwell. Typical.  
**Disclaimer:** Mr. Heller's, not mine.  
**Notes: **Inspired by certain events that happened to me last month. *coughs* 'Cause I'm nice like that.  
**Prompt:** Blue

**Beaten Black and Blue**

Lisbon just glared at Jane as they strapped themselves into the SUV. This was getting beyond a joke; the nurses at the ER knew him on first name terms, admittedly not helped by the fact that he flirted shamelessly with them. It also didn't help that she always ended up being the one chaperoning him there; she was getting fed up with the glowering looks for jealous medical professionals who all seemed to assume that she and Jane were in a relationship. No way. As if. Not in a million years.

He grinned at her from underneath cotton wool and tape. The nurse had told him that he had been very lucky this time. Lisbon had muttered something about how if the suspect doesn't break his nose next time, she will. She'd almost got thrown out of the room for that, but Jane had smoothed things over, saying something about how she had an 'unusual' sense of humour. Lisbon wasn't trying to be funny, though. She'd meant it. Sort of. Monthly visits to ER do that to a woman. So do migraines. At least it was only a mild one though, only about six out of ten on the 'migraine scale' she'd mentally kept since she started suffering from them when she was fourteen.

"That's the last time I peel you off the pavement after you've been beaten black and blue."

"Aw, you don't mean that, Lisbon," he replied, sounding rather stuffy because of the cotton shoved up his nose to stem the blood flow. "You enjoy it really."

"I do not," she snapped. "You need to learn to stop pissing people off in this line of work, Jane. You'll get yourself a serious injury one of these days."

When they arrived back at HQ, Lisbon stomped off back to her office before Van Pelt even had a chance to update her on the reports forensics had come back with on the Terrick case. The poor redhead then looked so flustered and almost hurt, that Jane had to step in and whisk her away to the kitchenette for a hot drink.

"What have you done to Lisbon?"

"Me, nothing," Jane replied to a sceptical Van Pelt. "Her migraine however…"

"She has a migraine? Why is she still here then?"

"Our boss is a martyr to her work, you can't really expect her to take a day off for something as mundane as a migraine? Anyway, it's virtually impossible for her to admit that she's ill."

"Good point," Van Pelt conceded whilst sipping on her coffee.

***

The next morning, Lisbon swore her head felt worse than having a vice clamped around it. In fact, she reckoned that a clamp would be bliss compared to how she was suffering right now. It didn't help that she was about to face a day with quite possibly the most childish, and loudest man on the planet. And they had to travel at least an hour to get to the house of the suspect, meaning she'd be trapped in a small metal box with him. Joy.

"I can't believe she came into work today," Van Pelt muttered to Rigsby. She looked suitably admonished when she realised that Lisbon had not only overheard but was standing right behind her. "I'm sorry, boss, but you do look really unwell."

"Enough," Lisbon replied. "We have work to do."

As she explained the details of the day's plans, they listened attentively. It was obvious that speaking at all was causing her pain so she was almost whispering at them. Jane knew that he'd find it amusing if she wasn't suffering but he knew she was particularly ill because they hadn't even bickered in jest once today. He just received a quiet 'hello' along with everyone else before she had retreated to Minelli's to update him on the latest case and the information she was relaying now. Jane knew he shouldn't, but he felt almost ignored by her lack of contact. It wasn't as if she could help it, after all.

It was when they were standing in front of the SUV when Jane finally managed to get a few private words with her. Along with Van Pelt, they were meant to be questioning David Terrick's elder sister, Hollie, who seemed to look good for the murder. He raised a hand to stroke a loose strand of hair out of her eyes and she flinched at the physical contact, whilst squinting at the bright sunlight.

"Do you suffer from aura?"

"What?"

"Migraine aura," he repeated. "Everyone knows you have one, Lisbon. You don't need to pretend that you're fine."

"Yes."

"I would ask you why you're even here, but I know the answer to that. Give me the keys."

Lisbon sighed and instead approached Van Pelt, who had just exited the CBI headquarters and was approaching them, whilst carrying the laptop she had been sent back for. She looked a little startled as Lisbon walked towards her, but she often did. Jane smiled; the rookie still hadn't realised that their boss' bark was worse than her bite.

"Van Pelt?"

"Yes, boss?"

"You're driving."

'Damn her,' thought Jane, briefly. But at least, she wasn't driving. That was a compromise to say the least. Besides, it would give him a chance to attempt to make sure she stayed hydrated during the journey. Water often helped clear up migraines.

***

"She came in again?" He had already said it several times but Rigsby still sounded even more incredulous than Van Pelt had 24 hours ago.

Van Pelt nodded forlornly as Jane stormed off to Minelli's office. He hadn't thought it possible, but Lisbon had yet again managed to look even paler than the day before. The three of them had been attempting to observe her through closed blinds despite Cho's rather pathetic attempts to try and get them to work, though he did appreciate their sentiment. He'd long since given up, hoping that Lisbon would eventually grow annoyed with them and chastise them for work avoidance. They were all baffled when Jane returned with a triumphant smile, picked the lock to her office and threw open the door.

"You know, if you've had a migraine for 72 hours, you're meant to go to ER?"

"Jane," she whispered. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Taking you to hospital," he frowned. "You're sick and it could be serious."

"It's happened before," she replied. "They told me it was just a migraine then, the same as it is now."

"Fine, home then," he smiled as she looked horrified at the concept. "Minelli's orders."

She stood, giving up. She had known that they had wasted the best part of an hour trying to watch her from the other side of the door. Perhaps if she went home and slept for a while, they would get more done and find some solid evidence to arrest Hollie Terrick? And she was fairly certain that if there was a major breakthrough, Cho wouldn't hesitate to call her. Well, sort of, anyway. Jane guided her out of the building and Lisbon knew that if she had more energy, she would have thrown off the gentle (and protective) arm he had thrown around her shoulders. She didn't even have the spirit to complain when he said that they would take his car to her apartment.

Though she was loathe to admit it, she quite liked the attention Jane lavished on her once she got home. He immediately made himself at home in her kitchen, making sure she knew that there was absolutely no way he was going to leave her alone for the night. And if she was still suffering in the morning, he was driving her straight to ER whether she liked it or not. Every few minutes, he made sure she had enough water, that she didn't need any more painkillers or migraine medicine. After he had practically force-fed her, they sat together on her couch with her curled up in the crook of his arm. When he noticed she was nearly falling asleep, he'd cajoled her into her bedroom and sat outside of the door until he was certain she was sleeping.

When she woke up, Lisbon padded downstairs in slipper-clad feet, with her dressing gown wrapped rather tightly around her lithe form. She also wore an expression which was a strange mixture of guilt and gratitude and looked at least a thousand times better than she did when he had virtually locked her in her bedroom the previous afternoon. It had surprised her just how much an afternoon off had helped.

"You look better," Jane noted as he poured them both a cup of tea.

"I feel it," she replied. "Thank you, Jane. There was no need to look after me last night."

"Nonsense," he grinned. "Besides, if you weren't better, who would peel me off the pavement after I've been beaten black and blue?"

end

**Next: **Indigo Jeans


	6. Indigo Jeans

**Title: **Colours of the Rainbow #6: Indigo Jeans  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating:** T  
**Characters: **Jane/Lisbon, Team  
**Summary: **He briefly remembered that indigo was a colour known for it's speed. Faster even than blue.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't even know if I own my mind anymore…  
**Prompt**: Indigo

**Indigo Jeans**

He was feigning sleep, like usual. It was the best way to try and keep that worried expression off of Teresa Lisbon's face and it stopped her from threatening to book him a doctor's appointment again. Besides, it gave him the perfect opportunity to indulge in his favourite hobby: team watching. Since becoming a member of said team, he liked to indulge in it as often as possible, learning their different tells and the limits to which he could push them. In this case, there wasn't much 'team' watching to do. Van Pelt was up to her usual thing, on the computer, though wishing desperately that she was out in the field and Cho and Rigsby were making an arrest at Lisbon's request.

Lisbon herself had been pottering around the office, and appeared uncharacteristically nervous. Jane had spent a significant amount of time scrutinising her appearance. The jeans were new. Not quite blue, definitely not purple, something more subtle. Indigo. A colour for thinkers, people said it helped you focus on personal issues, to understand. Jane wasn't quite sure how much faith one could put in the meanings of colours, nor the affect they could have on someone's moods. And it certainly wasn't a Lisbon thing to believe in, much more Grace. They were probably just the best fit and most practical pants they had in the petite section last time she want shopping.

Minelli dropped by and dragged Lisbon away. She looked terrified by that point. Bad news? Did she think she was going to be _fired_? But her, their, team had the highest solve rate in the CBI. He didn't like not knowing something about his little, translucent firecracker. Normally, he could tell exactly what was wrong by one glance in her green eyes but today… He shook his head. Either, he must be losing his touch or she was learning how to cover her tracks. Apart from the nervousness, of course.

When she eventually returned to the bullpen with a harried expression on her face, she simply announced to them that she had taken the rest of the day off. No expansion, just short, snappish and directly to the point. To be honest, he hadn't expected anything more of her, though taking time off was pretty unexpected of her. He glanced up at the clock. Cho and Rigsby should be back soon, but in reality, he wanted to leave. And realistically, he couldn't for at least another four hours.

The seconds slipped by painfully slowly and the suspect got on his nerves. It was his audacity, the fact he was continually lying when it was obvious he had taken the life of the twin boys. Of course the team required more concrete evidence than the fact that the bastard couldn't keep hold of anyone's gaze for more than five seconds. They'd get there, though. It was just a matter of time.

At clocking off time, he was out of the door like a flash. The others barely heard his hurried goodbyes. That didn't matter though; when Lisbon had left earlier, she had looked so terribly sad and Jane knew he couldn't wait until morning to find out why. He was impatient and he knew it, and he didn't care much for the idea of changing a habit of a lifetime.

When he found her, she was unexpectedly nursing a glass of wine in a bar they occasionally frequented. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as the bell rang cheerily, announcing to the staff that they had another patron. Lisbon glanced up and he found he hated the redness around her eyes. He hadn't expected the surge of protectiveness to wash over him as he rushed to her side. All he knew was that whoever was responsible for Lisbon trying to drown away her sorrows had hell to pay.

"I haven't had much to drink," she admitted, like a guilty schoolgirl who had been caught out. "This is still my first."

He quickly glanced over at the bar staff, who appeared to confirm her statement. The glass in front of her was virtually full still, too. Obviously, she had ordered it and then found she couldn't face the idea of actually drinking it. Jane pushed it to one side and took hold of her small hands. He was pleased that she didn't try to snatch them away like she would have done under normal circumstances.

"What's happened?" he whispered. "And no lying, because you know I'll only catch you out."

She glowered at him slightly, but told him anyway. How narcotics had been doing a drugs raid and how her brother had been one of the main suspects. That the raid had gone wrong and he had been caught in a shoot-out and was now lying on a slab in a morgue somewhere in Sacramento. How throughout his life, he'd hidden the drugs from her and she had only found out today through Virgil Minelli. Worst of all was that she had been completely oblivious and there was so much she felt she could have done about it. She didn't even have to vocalise how she felt like a failure as a cop and a sister.

They don't notice just how they've ended up back at her apartment. They've been wandering, hand in hand, for hours and Jane had dutifully listened to her pouring her heart and soul out. He's learned more about her in the past couple of hours than he had done in the years he's been working with her. And that worried him somewhat. Obviously, she hadn't been quite as translucent as he had pegged her down as being.

There were words on the tip of his tongue and he didn't know quite what they were or how to say it. He knew that Teresa Lisbon is more than just a friend to him, but he has never been quite able to identify what she was. He's always felt it safer that way. Besides, it was her thing to compartmentalise emotions, people, jobs and life. Not his. Talking to her for so long has reminded him of a time when he relished in the complicatedness of everything and the fact that you shouldn't just shut one thing off from another. It hurt him as he realised that that was exactly what he has done for so many years now, on his fruitless quest for revenge.

"I don't want to remember anymore," she whispered honestly, "I want to _forget_."

He nodded, completely understanding, as she took him by the hand and led him through to her bedroom. After all, he wants to forget too, but he also wants to remember. He wants to remember what it is like to feel again. But this was wrong, all wrong. He couldn't quite tell who was leading on whom. She was a mourning sister for crying out loud, and he was taking advantage of her grief. And what of her? She knew he was broken. Even if she could put the pieces back together, it wouldn't change the fact that the cracks were still there, clear as day.

Jane knew too, that if they started this, he didn't know if he could stop. Ever. It unnerved him that his loyalty to his wife had waned that much in recent months. He batted away her slender fingers from the buttons on his vest. She cocked her head, her eyes still filled with unshed tears as she observed him quizzically. It was a credit to her that she just waited for him to vocalise exactly what was on his mind.

"If this doesn't work, we can't take it back."

"I know," she whispered. "Please, Patrick?"

His given name sounded unnatural on her lips, but Jane was certain he could grow used to it. After all, he had seen her as being his Lisbon for several years now and it could be quite nice for her to grow into being his Teresa instead. The silence echoing between them became painful and he found he just had to agree. It seemed like there was nowhere left for them to go but the direction they were hurtling in. He would have likened it to a salmon fighting against the downstream, but found that he actually didn't mind at all. On the contrary, he quite liked the thoughts now.

Good thing, too. Whilst his mind ran at a thousand miles an hour, his calloused fingertips had worked on the button fastening those indigo jeans together. Said item of clothing was already pooled at her feet and he helped her step out of them delicately. His eyes darkened. Lust may have been one of the seven deadly sins, but he knew that they both were quite happy to go down that route right now.

Later, they were lying side by side with his fingers dancing across her skin, along her bare side. He kept it to feather light touches, not enough to disturb her from the slumber that she had finally fallen into. She looked so fragile now, rather than formidable and he just wanted to protect her from the rest of the world, though he knew deep down that it is more likely she will be protecting him, like she always has done. He briefly remembered that indigo was a colour known for it's speed. Faster even than blue. When he got up this morning, this certainly wasn't on his agenda. But he wasn't complaining, so long as she didn't contented, for the first time in oh so long, he was scared. What if she regretted their actions come morning? He knew he didn't love her, not yet, but there was a certain fondness that would break his heart if she pushed him away. And what of the future? What kind of relationship would she expect of him?

What scared him most was where their relationship went now.

end

**Next:** Roses are Red, Violets are Blue


	7. Roses are Red, Violets are Blue

A/N: I can't believe I've already finished this challenge. Aw… oh well. Hope you've enjoyed reading them as much as I've enjoyed writing them.

Thanks go to: mwalter1, PhoenixWytch, SpaceAnJL, Frogster, Madaboutthementalist, JocelynMcC, JelloFanatic123, yasminbanu786, Habeous Corpus, WildDaisies10, kathiann, cureless and Americanchick for your kind reviews that have kept me inspired.

Here's the last ficlet. And somehow, amazingly, it's fluff. Wow.

x tromana

**Title:** Colours of the Rainbow #7: Roses are Red, Violets are Blue  
**Rating:** T  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon, Team  
**Summary: **Inanimate objects can't stare, Lisbon.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Notes:** Colours of the Rainbow: Violet

**Roses are Red, Violets are Blue**

It was staring at her. Lisbon knew full well that envelopes didn't have eyes, never mind sentience so it wasn't actually physically possible for it to actually be staring at her, but that didn't seem to be causing it any problems. She hadn't actually been sure where it had come from. She had been sorting through some old case files in her inbox, ones that had gotten pushed aside for more important matters and it was just there. It was just a plain, white envelope, not even addressed. Part of her wanted to rush it down to forensics to check for anything suspicious, but the other part decided that was a little irrational.

Instead, she took to trying to ignore it rather unsuccessfully. Well, until Jane came blundering in as per usual, with a silly grin plastered over his face. Really, he smiled far too frequently, especially whenever he strolled into her office. Lisbon watched as he wandered around her office, looking for any differences, as usual.

"So you haven't opened it yet, then?"

"What?"

"That, of course," he replied, indicating to the envelope now propped up against the photograph of one of her old dogs. "You've been staring at it for the past hour."

"I have not," she stated indignantly. "I've been working through some old files. Something that you should be doing, too."

"Sure you have."

"Jane?"

"Yes, Lisbon?"

"Get out."

Lisbon couldn't quite believe that Jane had actually listened to her. Smiling, he headed towards Cho's desk and the sombre agent eyed him warily. Usually, he hated it when he was the only one left in the bullpen; Van Pelt and Rigsby had been sent to do some inquiries about a cold case. Being alone meant you were the sole focus of Jane and his party tricks, especially if Lisbon was fed up with him and had actively kicked him out of her office. However, Cho was feeling quite bored, too. Normally, he'd try and avoid encouraging the consultant, but he'd already finished with the files he'd been given that morning, so Cho was feeling game.

"What have you done to her?"

"Me? Nothing. But I expect her to be out here within," Jane glanced at his watch quickly. "Ten minutes."

Inside Lisbon's office, she found that Jane hadn't helped matters. The desire to open that incongruous white envelope had only heightened. Sighing, she grabbed hold of it and tested the weight for a second time. She couldn't be entirely sure, but it felt like a card of some variety. And that was what bemused her. Christmas had long since past, and her birthday wasn't for another couple of months yet. Eventually, she gave up to curiosity and slid a fingernail underneath the gummed seal. Of all the things it could have been, that hadn't been what she had expected though. It wasn't even tasteful. Still, she read through the cheery St. Valentines card, slightly aghast.

_Roses are Red  
__Violets are Blue  
Flowers are sweet  
__And so are you_

_Sorry, I know it's cheesy but never mind. Violets aren't even blue generally, they come in many varieties of colour. Aside from poetic inaccuracies, if you're bored tonight and want to distract yourself while everyone else is celebrating their love, come out with me? I know of a nice place which will definitely have a table free._

_Jane._

When she stormed out of her office and towards Jane and Cho, the Asian agent glanced at Jane as if to say 'she's early'. It had only been eight and a half minutes so Jane had returned. He merely shrugged in response and beamed brightly at his obviously irate boss. It surprised him just how annoyed she could get over something as simple as a card. One that she had received rather late, but still essentially harmless. Jane had placed it on her desk the day before St. Valentines, but obviously it had become lost under a pile of paperwork. She brandished the card in front of his face, still fuming.

"What the hell, Jane?" she fumed. "Is this your idea of a sick joke?"

"No, it was meant to cheer you up," he replied, honestly. "In February, mind. You've found it a little late."

She turned and quickly asked Cho to go deliver some files she had finished with to Minelli. Lisbon propped herself up on Jane's unused desk and continued glaring at him, waiting for him to announce that yes, it was a joke and apologise for the fact that it wasn't actually that funny at all.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Dinner, tonight?"

Lisbon blinked owlishly at the proposition. Despite the fact that he had written it in ink on the piece of card in her hand, she hadn't expected to ever hear those words from him. Not without the rest of the team invited, at any rate. She'd spent a good few months burying illicit emotions and he was standing in front of her quite happily digging them up again. Like he'd known all along. Damn the man. But still two work colleagues, friends, could go out to dinner and nothing could come of it. Couldn't they? There was nothing wrong with that. They wouldn't be breaking any rules, company or self-inflicted. And it would be nice to spend a night with adult, if not mature, company instead of being holed up at home.

"Well?"

She shook her head as he broke her from her reverie.

She was thinking 'screw you' but somehow a surprisingly nervous 'okay' slipped past her lips. Jane grinned in response.

Now, all she had to worry about was appropriate dress wear. And what the hell she had just let herself in for.

end


End file.
